Another Chance
by betty.riffe1962
Summary: Sophie wants to end it all, and nearly does until she ends up in Imlandris, being taken care of by one of the best healers in all Middle Earth. She has gotten another chance at life. Will she make it worthwhile? (I wanted to do a different thing with an OC almost dying, and getting sent to Middle Earth.) TW: Suicide Attempt, Depression, and Anxiety (Legolas X OC)
1. Chapter 1

This is it! I can't take it anymore! I can't take living like this anymore! I grabbed a butcher knife from the kitchen, and rushed up to my bedroom. The blade cold against my wrist now as I contemplated it. I scoffed at the thoughts of my family. They wouldn't care. They have never cared. My parents have never showed me the love and affection I needed. All sorts of negative thoughts went through my mind, saying I have never deserved their love. Maybe it was right. Taking several deep breaths, I attempted to calm my raging nerves. White lines met my gaze as I glanced at my left wrist. This time it'll be deeper.

After another deep breath, it happened. A scream of pure agony erupted from me as the knife cut deeply into my skin. A few seconds later, the pleasure came, my mind reacting to my injured body. I did the same to my other wrist, and waited. Waited for it to all be over. I stared blankly at the wall as the blood dripped from my wrists onto the hardwood floor. _Tap. Tap. Tap._ The sound of the liquid making contact with the floor was actually quite soothing. Black dots appeared in my vision, becoming light-headed from the blood loss. The world spun around me as I fell to the floor with a harsh thud. A dull ache shot up my shoulder, but soon I couldn't feel a thing. My tired eyes blinked a few times before staying closed. _Maybe now, I won't have to suffer anymore._ I thought to myself before slipping away completely.

A blinding light. It was the first thing that registered in my mind as I opened my eyes slightly. Everything was blurry, but I could make out a figure hovering over me. _An angel maybe._ A bunch of words that I could not recognize graced my ears as I closed my eyes again. It sounded like a whole different language to me. I was gone again just like that.

I opened my eyes for a second time, revealing a place that I have never seen before. _Where am I? Is this a dream or am I dead?_ I wondered, but the stinging pain in my wrists made the idea of that go right down the drain. _Oh, God! If this isn't a dream, then where the Hell am I?_ My eyes became wild with panic as I tried to find some sign that could tell me. I found nothing.

My breathing became labored, as I rushed to get out of bed, ignoring the immense pain in my wrists. Chest tightening and walls closing in, I tried to make my desperate escape. However, a person at the door caught me. I screamed and thrashed, trying my damnedest to get away. Just because I wanted to die doesn't mean I want to get kidnapped for there are far worse things than death. The man who caught me had no intentions of letting go. He whispered something to me that was oddly familiar. It must have been that strange language I heard when had first woken up. After a few moments, my struggling died down, but my breathing was still short and fast.

"Deep breaths, child," I couldn't understand that either. That language was different than the first one, though. My hand grasped my chest as the man sat me to the floor, holding me steady. His hands were gentle for a kidnapper. "You are safe here," he kept talking calmly. Though, I couldn't understand what he was saying, it still somewhat soothed me. "I am Lord Elrond, and you are in Imlandris. I have treated your wounds, but you will have to stay for awhile longer until they heal." I had finally calmed down some, and looked up at the man who helped me or kidnapped or whichever. He was alot taller than me, and had an intense look about him that just screamed authority figure. His hair was long, and what was that. Looking at his ears, I noticed. _This man has pointed ears!_ This is a joke, right? It has to be! Maybe he's a cosplayer or something. I shook my own head at that thought. He didn't seem the type. _What then? Am I actually seeing a honest to goodness Elf right now?_ I admit that I have never really been that much of a fan of fantasy, but everyone knows of Elves.

"S-sir, where am I?" The Elf looked at me with a seemingly confused expression on his face. He can't understand me any more than I can him. I sighed heavily. _What am I going to do? I don't know where on Earth I am, and can't communicate with anyone._ Despair hit me like a ton of bricks, but the question is why. Why am I worried about all this when I wanted to take my life so badly? None of this stuff should matter, but it kinda does.

The man led me back to the bed where he sat me down, and checked my injuries. Bandages were on my wrists, and even though I couldn't see the wounds, the stinging pain made me feel them. I was sort of embarrassed. _What does he think of them? Does he think I'm crazy or weak like most of my family?_ Tears made tracks down my cheeks as I thought of them. They probably don't even miss me. His gentle hands undid the dressings, and the sight that greeted me was slightly unsettling. My wounds had been stiched up, but the thought of a needle going through my wrists disturbed me. If you couldn't guess, I'm not a fan of needles at all.

Once he was done, the Elf turned around to leave. I grabbed his hand in order to stop him. I could see the surprise in his eyes as he looked back at me. I smiled at him kindly as a way to say "thank you" without actually having to say anything.

"You are welcome," he smiled back at me slightly as an indication that he had accepted my thanks. I let go of his hand, and he continued to the door. "We will figure everything out, in time." He seemed to mutter whatever words he was saying to himself as if I could understand if he were to speak louder. _I still have so many unanswered questions. I hope I find out what's going on soon._ I thought to myself as I tried to fall asleep as my body was exhausted, but no rest came. _Ugh! I hope I get used to this because I have a feeling I won't be going anywhere anytime soon._


	2. Chapter 2

It has been two years since I came to Imlandris. In that time, I have found out that this is not Earth at all, but another realm all together. I have been learning the native languages here which are Elvish and Westron. I'm not sure on that last one. I'm not exactly fluent, but at least I can understand what people are saying to me now. I have also begun to pick up fighting skills such as archery and sword play. Though, my tutor found out all too quickly I did not have the hand eye coordination necessary to shoot a bow, so sword play it was for me.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," I spoke in Elvish to my tutor, "my friend." I looked at the male Elf nervously. Had I said it right, or did I end up saying something offensive?

"Well met," my tutor greeted back with a slight smile. "Have you been practicing? You are even getting better at the pronunciation." It was true. I have spent restless night after restless night practicing how to say and pronounce as many words as I could.

"I have," I confirmed, still speaking Sindarin, "Is it time for sword training now?" At this, the man furrowed his brows at me. Oh no! I had said it wrong!

"It is nice to know I have a very bright smile," he chuckled slightly, "you still have much more work to do, child." I sighed heavily. Sindarin is the most beautiful language I have ever heard, but it is also quite difficult. Westron is the easiest of the two I find as it is referred to as the Common Tongue. "Do not be discouraged." I raised my head up to look at my tutor's kind and patient eyes. He smiled kindly at me. "Come, it is time for sword discipline training." Excitement rushed through me at hearing that. I love learning fighting skills! I don't know why. It just makes me feel relaxed somehow.

Taking a practice sword out of the rack, I swung it through the air as if I were fighting an invisible opponent. I have improved drastically since first starting a half a year ago, but still had alot more to learn.

"You are a hard worker, I have noticed," the Elvish man told me. "You have been here for two years, and have already shown much promise."

"You are too kind," I replied in Sindarin, "I simply do not wish to be a burden. I will learn as many skills as I can, so I can repay the kindness of Lord Elrond for saving me that day. He did not have to save a nobody like me being an Elvish Lord, but did. Not only that, but he also allowed me to stay in his home, a strange girl he knew nothing of."

"I see," came my tutor's simple reply, "you seem to be quite devoted to this, Maenes." He smiled at me, using my Elvish name. You see, ormy real name is Sophie, but the people here call me the Sindarin version of that.

Once sword practice was over, I went to the healers for my daily lesson in herb lore. I am also devoted to learning as much about healing as possible. That way, I will have a number skills to help out in any way I can. I know I cannot be a master at everything, having learned that much on the first day of weapon discipline. I am not allowed to so much as touch a bow ever again. However, I still want to try be at least decent at most of the things.

"There is still much practice to be done," a She-Elf healer told me after I had confused two herbs. The one I had thought to have healing properties was actually potentially poisonous. My shoulders slumped, and I huffed in frustration. Why is this so difficult? "Do not fret, Maenes," she reassured me with a kind smile, making me sort of envious. Elves are so gorgeous while I can hardly be considered average with my incredibly flat hair and freckles. I have tried so many times to be as attractive as them, but it never works. The healer has long Raven colored hair and bright Gray eyes. I wish I could have that, but my eyes and hair are both dark Brown. I shook my head as I should not compare myself to others, a lesson from Lord Elrond as he saw my low confidence. "You are sixteen years of age, are you not?" The question sort of caught me off guard. Yes, it was true. I have been here since I was fourteen.

"Yes, why do you ask?" I wondered.

"That means you are nearly a young woman by human standards," she explained, "you will find a suitor soon, will you not?" A blush spread across my cheeks, and my mind went blank.

"N-no!" I answered, utterly flustered, "I have to find someone I love first."

"You humans have such little time, though" replied she, "Elves have all the time we need to find someone suitable, but your kind are only alive for a fraction of our life span." Elves are practically immortal from what I have learned as they do not age, and can only either be slain in battle or die of grief. I have also come to realize that the female healer is somewhat of a romantic. The woman's face turned sort of serious at that moment.

"Have you looked for a way of returning to your world?" Actually, no. Lady Galadriel said there was no way to go back as it was the will of the Gods to have me here to live out my second chance at life. Though, I am not sad because I hated my old life. I don't want to be dead anymore, and am starting to find my confidence.

"No," I sighed, "there is nothing that can be done."

"Oh, I apologise," I waved off her apology.

"There is nothing to be sorry about for I am not," I replied truthfully.

Sometime after my twentieth birthday, a man came to Rivendell. They said his name was Aragorn, and he is the heir to the throne of Gondor supposedly. His hair was shoulder length and dark Brown, eyes a bright Gray color. This Aragorn is quite attractive if I must say so myself. I was training with my weapon when I actually met him for the first time, and he had offered to spar with me.

"You are rather skilled," he complimented as we practiced with our swords. I smirked at him.

"Thank you," I thanked him, "though, it would be unthinkable to compliment your opponent on the field of battle." I spoke in Sindarin for the last part. He looked shocked at how fluent I was, and I used that to my advantage, tossing his blade to the side. Pointing my sword at his throat, I smirked triumphantly. That was until he knocked my feet out from under me, causing me to drop my sword as I made a futile attempt at catching myself. Landing to the ground with an "oof", the point of my blade was aimed at me as Aragorn looked down with a smirk of his own.

"You are skilled," he repeated, "but still young and cocky. That is a deadly combination my lady." Aragorn held out a hand to me and with a huff, I accepted it.

"Thank you," I replied while dusting off my silver tunic. I mostly wear men's clothes, but it is not because dresses are bad. They just do not give me enough room to move around. I actually do wear dresses when I am not doing much. I looked up from my now dirty clothes to catch the man in front of me marveling at my sword. It was a sword with an elegant design of leaves engraved into the serface of the blade. The cross guard was twisted in order to look like vines, with a Brown leather hilt and round pommel. He caught my gaze, and handed it back to me which I happily took back. One thing a warrior has if nothing else is a trusty blade that one can depend on concerning life and death. "I requested this sword, and even helped craft it. It has been with me through thick and thin." I was not an exceptional Smith, but this blade is one that I am particularly proud of. I smiled fondly at the memory of the hours it took to finish this beauty, and remembered how giddy I was to finally put it to use.

"You seem proud," Aragorn stated, "as you should be. It is a fine blade. Keep it for as long as you can." I nodded my head in agreement.

"Thank you," I responded, "I intend to." I smiled kindly at him. "Oh, yes. I almost forgot to introduce myself." I held out a hand to him. "My name is Sophie. It is a pleasure to meet you." The Elvish rolled off my tongue almost effortlessly now.

"Well met," he shook my hand firmly before excusing himself. I did not speak with Aragorn for several years after that as he left to become a Ranger to escape becoming the rightful king of Gondor. It had been percisely twelve years since I had seen Aragorn, but what his visit brings might change the lives of people in Middle Earth forever.


End file.
